by Joanna Lloyd
Lady Percy gestured for Electra’s attention and asked her how she was taking to a life of farming. Lady Percy had just given her the perfect opportunity to mention William’s proposal.
She raised her voice ever so slightly to ensure her response reached the governor’s ears. “There is so much to learn and I’m reading all I can about merino sheep. But the subject most interesting is my husband’s proposal to the governor to produce quality wine and develop an export market.”
William spluttered and spilt his drink onto his sleeve.
“Eh? What’s that ye say?” asked the governor. “What proposal is this, Radcliffe? Sounds like a verra fine idea. Where the devil is it then, man? I’ve no’ seen such as yet.”
“I’m sure Lieutenant Cameron is looking to it sir,” said William.
The governor looked across the room and beckoned to Henry Cameron. “What do ye ken of Radcliffe’s wine proposal, lieutenant?”
Henry Cameron’s face clouded in anger. “Hollywell and I were looking it over first, sir, before passing it on to you.”
“Weel I’ll see it on ma desk first thing Monday mornin’ then, aye?”
William’s eyes riveted on Electra’s in accusation but she smiled innocently and turned back to Captain Hawley. She would not be intimidated by men such as Henry Cameron, with his petty games. And what sort of wife would she be not to support her husband’s endeavours? Hopefully, William would understand.
After the first two courses, it was suggested diners might wish to move around and take their dessert at different tables. Electra, Captain Hawley, and William did not move. Three or four others left the governor’s table and the vacant seats were immediately filled. One seat was claimed by Anne Litchfield, the wife of Colonel Litchfield, an officer in the corps. Her daughter, Wilhelmina, a thin, mousy girl with a bland face and personality to match, accompanied her. Electra started as a high-pitched voice expressed surprise at Captain Hawley’s presence.
“Why Captain Hawley, I didn’t see you there, how nice you could join us tonight,” twittered Anne Litchfield. “My daughter, Wilhelmina, so enjoys your company.” She poked her spinster daughter, who squeaked in assent. Mrs. Litchfield gestured to a chair beside her daughter. “Come, come captain. Sit here with us. You deserve company befitting your station.”
There was a chilling silence and both the captain and William began to speak at once. Captain Hawley held his hand up, halting William’s words.
“You are right, Madam; I am associating outside of my station.”
Electra looked at the captain in disbelief. Had he really just said that? Aloud? She glanced at William and stilled; his face was a mask of rage. He snatched his napkin off his lap and threw it onto the table. But the captain continued undaunted.
“As Mrs. Radcliffe was the daughter of the late and eminent Viscount Gascombe — ” there were mutterings of surprise around the table and an indignant gasp from Electra, “ — and, as there is considerable evidence regarding her innocence in the matter of her transportation, I’m certainly reaching beyond my station. But I would beg her tolerance in letting an old sea captain be a fool.”
There was astounded silence in the room as Electra met William’s eyes. His hand, gripping the napkin, relaxed.
Finally the governor spoke. “Bravo! Well said, captain.” Lady Percy clapped in delight. Her husband raised an amused eyebrow.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Litchfield would not be bested. “Most of them protest their innocence to my knowledge. And have you been found innocent, Mrs. Radcliffe?”
William turned to the woman, with murder in his eyes. He pushed out his chair and with his hands on the table, leant toward her. “How dare you speak to my wife in that manner — ”
Electra stood. It was gallant of William and the captain to defend her but there were things she had been itching to say to these people all evening. Now was as good a time as any. She reached over the table and put her hand on William’s. He scowled and remained on his feet but when she glared pointedly at him, he lowered himself to his chair.
“Not yet, Mrs. Litchfield, so you will be obliged to continue to see me as nothing more than a convict. But I must commend you on being so stalwart as to drag your prejudices and narrow-minded thinking thousands of miles across the ocean to this fine new country.” Electra ignored the choking sound from Mrs. Litchfield as her gaze swept the party gathered before her. Such hypocrites. They may consider her socially inferior but the men openly feasted their greedy eyes on her body. And she was sure many of the women wished it was their finger that bore William Radcliffe’s wedding ring.
She turned apologetically to the governor. “Your Excellency, I must beg your permission to take my leave and apologize if I have spoken out of turn.”
With a barely concealed grin, the governor shook his head. “No, ye’ve done no harm, Mrs. Radcliffe. All opinions are verra welcome at ma table and as we have all completed our meals, let us take to the ballroom for dancing.” The governor promptly rose, took his wife’s arm and led his guests from the room. Electra noticed his wife slap him with her fan as they left. Without realizing he had moved, Electra looked up to find William beside her, offering his arm to escort her out. She met his gaze and a strange knot formed in her abdomen.
“Well done, my dear.” The words whispered against her ear sent shivers tingling across her skin.
Captain Hawley gallantly approached Wilhelmina Litchfield and offered his arm. Her mother’s horrified countenance immediately changed to one of fawning gratitude and her eyes gleamed in triumph.
The governor danced with his wife, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort with his behaviour. Electra noticed a satisfied smile on his face as if he was pleased with the night’s events. Unfortunately, she noted, many others did not seem to share his pleasure. She sighed, wondering how many enemies she had made tonight.
Groups formed for the quadrille and William, bowing over Electra’s hand, invited her on to the floor. She graciously accepted but then regretted her decision as Lieutenant and Mrs. Cameron joined them. On seeing Electra, Mrs. Cameron tried to leave the floor but, to his credit, her husband gripped her hand, preventing her egress. The music began and Electra discovered she and William were the head couple. Without hesitation, she executed the steps with grace and skill, determined to disappoint those who wished to see her falter.
She was conscious of William’s long, muscular legs as their bodies synchronized in movement. He was taller than the other men in the group, and many eyes, including hers, watched him as he moved about the floor. As he drew her to him, his eyes fixed on her face, Electra had a sudden image of their bodies coming together naked and in passion. A shiver ran through her lower regions and she nearly missed the next step. At last, the dance was over. She left the floor on William’s arm and strove to calm her erratic breathing.
His duty to Wilhelmina Litchfield completed, Captain Hawley claimed the next dance with Electra. She was amazed at the difference. While with William, it was as if she were caught in a maelstrom, drawing her inexorably toward him. With the captain, it was no more than pleasant and she longed to be once more beside her husband.
• • •
A dance with Leona Lancaster was unavoidable. William could not help but compare this mechanical execution of the steps with the heart thumping experience of whirling round the dance floor with Electra. Leona spoke as the steps brought them together.
“Mrs. Radcliffe is rather forthright, would you not say?” she asked.
“Yes, forthright but also honest and loyal. Extremely commendable qualities, would you not say?” William answered.
“I suppose so. If you like that sort of thing.”
“Luckily, I happen to be extremely fond of that sort of thing,” he said, spinning her away from him.
“At the risk of being bold, I must say I had thought this marriage may not have substance. It seems I am mistaken and wish to apologize for my earlier behaviour,” she said, as she returned to his si
de.
“Apology accepted, Leona. Perhaps you will visit us at the farm some time.”
“Perhaps.” She looked doubtful.
It suddenly struck William that his words to Leona were indeed true. Although Electra had been a constant source of frustration and confusion, he had become extremely fond of her outlandish behaviour. He smiled at the notion. Now where was she?
William waylaid Electra as she left the dance floor and led her onto the veranda. She seemed grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd and catch her breath after another round of dancing. They stood side by side, each as keenly aware of the other’s presence as they were of the heady fragrance of jasmine that wafted from the garden. At the sound of voices, he pulled her into the shadows. It seemed an unnecessary action, but he wasn’t ready to share her yet. They both stilled as they heard Elizabeth Macquarie admonishing her husband.
“Really my dear, you must be more circumspect about your public opinions. Your support of Mrs. Radcliffe tonight will buy you more enemies than friends, mark my words.”
“I’m no’ ready to be dictated to by buffoons and vitriolic women. By God, Elizabeth, the Radcliffe woman had the courage to articulate everything I feel about the majority of yon free settlers. Their tight conservatism and unshakable grip on their class prejudices mean I canna achieve ma reforms. I canna build a future for this land when they block me at every turn.”
“You’re probably right but you’ll need their support to stay here long enough to do that,” sighed his wife.
“Weel, I’ve made a decision about Mrs. Radcliffe which they’ll no’ like,” he chuckled.
“Oh dear, what now?” said his wife.
As they moved inside, Electra tugged on William’s arm, “Whatever did he mean? Do you know?”
“Absolutely no idea.” He smiled.
• • •
William held Electra’s arm as they stood in front of the governor’s residence, waiting for their carriage. He handed his wife into the vehicle and, instead of taking the seat opposite, sat beside her. He was agonizingly aware of her proximity and a powerful desire for her washed through him. It was all he could do to keep his hands by his sides as he looked sideways at her beautiful face, flushed with excitement. She had successfully achieved her first foray into colonial society and, in his opinion, conducted herself with grace and dignity. However, her grace and dignity were not foremost in his mind. It was her sweet scent, her soft skin, and her warm thigh, inches from his own, which dominated his thoughts. It was not love he felt; he knew he could never love again. It had to be lust. Good Lord, a man would have to be made of wood not to be moved by Electra. But did he want to risk her rejection again? Too late. He watched the moonlight play over her delicate features. His eyes lingered on her soft, moist lips just aching to be kissed. She turned suddenly and caught his hungry gaze.
Her hand moved over to his thigh, dissolving the last of William’s self-control.
“Electra, I — ”
She was in his arms, her body soft and yielding. His lips devoured hers; his tongue sought the warm, moist welcome of her own. There was no hint of resistance this time. He broke off their kiss to lift her onto his lap, his arm going around her back to support her, and then his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss. As his hands sought her breasts, she unbuttoned his shirt, her soft hands touching the ridges of muscle covering his ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath as her seeking fingers reached the top of his breeches and shafts of energy pounded into his groin. Her head fell back as his tongue traced a line from her throat down to the curve of her breast and she drew in a ragged breath.
“Stop, William!”
He groaned, “Not again … I thought — ”
“No, not that. Can’t you smell it? It’s smoke.”
Chapter Eight
Flames leapt from behind the house and dark figures darted backwards and forwards from the river as William jumped from the still-moving carriage. By the time Electra caught up with him, he was directing the chain of workers who passed buckets of water from the river up to the house. The kitchen was ablaze and flying sparks threatened the barn nearby. She saw William divert a group of men to move the livestock out of danger. Chickens squawked and the horses whinnied in terror as they were led to safety.
Without hesitation, Electra grabbed a soaking wet blanket from the horse trough. Spirals of steam rose into the air from the horse blanket as she took her place beside the women beating at the flames. The scalding heat of the steam ate into her fingers until she dropped the blanket, shaking her hands to cool them. One of the men gestured for her to go into the house and there was a moment where she almost considered doing so. But a glance at the persistent efforts of those around her made her grab the blanket from the ground, douse it in the trough again, and match the rhythm of their movements.
She knew Mary and Annie, but there were many others she didn’t know. A tall woman with dark hair grabbed her arm and gestured to another small outbreak. They ran together to the far side of the kitchen and beat at the flames in turn. Her eyes stung and her throat filled with smoke but she knew if they could not contain the fire, the house would be in danger. The woman beside her fought the fire as if her life depended upon it and Electra knew she could do no less.
As they watched, the kitchen roof fell in, with a crash of burning timber and a fountain of sparks that sprayed up into the night sky.
It was another two hours before the last spark was doused and the company were able to survey the damage. They had not saved the kitchen but had ensured the house, barn, and livestock were safe. Some of the workers had fallen to the ground where they stood, exhausted and gasping from smoke inhalation.
Stifling sobs of despair at his burned-out kitchen, Shi Liang ladled water into cups to ease parched throats. Electra passed the woman next to her a cup of water and accepted another cup from Shi Liang. The cool liquid was heaven as she gulped large mouthfuls, feeling it soothe her raw, seared throat. Without a word, she held out the cup to be refilled and drank again, this time letting some of the water run down her neck and onto her chest, revelling in the sensation. Now all she wanted to do was flop to the ground and never get up but, of more importance, was her need to thank the dark-haired woman. Her voice came in hoarse whispers as she introduced herself.
“Your courage and endeavour were truly wonderful. Thank you for tonight. I’m Electra Radcliffe, William’s wife.”
“Aye, I kent who ye are. And it’s my pleasure to meet ye. I’m Shelagh MacDonald, Callum’s wife.” She smiled warmly. “Ye beat a mean blanket yourself, lass. Ye’ve done Riverside proud tonight with your ain courage and fighting spirit.”
They both laughed at her words. Electra reached over and clasped Shelagh’s hands, certain she had found a friend.
Then remembering why she had not met Shelagh earlier she asked, “Are you feeling better? Callum told me you had been ill.”
“Aye, not to worry, I’m feelin’ much better.” Shelagh looked up as William ran into the house calling Electra’s name.
“Yer mannie’s runnin’ himself silly lookin’ for ye,” she said, pointing.
Electra was too exhausted to follow him and without moving, called out, “William! I’m out here.”
William reappeared at the door of the house, but was unsuccessful in identifying Electra among the tired bodies slumped around the charred remains of the kitchen. She raised one arm, waving to attract his attention. He looked over in confusion and then ran toward her.
“My God, Electra. I thought you had gone into the house for safety and then I couldn’t find you. Look at you!” His gaze swept over Electra, then Shelagh, and then back to Electra’s soot-covered face and arms; her ripped, blackened gown; and wild, disarrayed hair. He reached for her, and then dropped his arms by his side as if he was not sure how she would receive him. Shelagh had a half smile on her lips as she watched his indecision.
“Och, Will, ye’d have been verra proud of your wee wifie tonight.
She fought every minute beside the rest o’ us until the last wee spark was out.” As she spoke, Callum rounded the corner and stood with his hands on his hips hooting with laughter at the sight of the two women.
“Dinna think ye’re climbing into ma bed tonight, lassie,” he said, bending forward and wiping a thick finger through the soot on his wife’s face. “I prefer ma women mean and clean.”
She jumped up. “It’s mean ye want is it? Weel that’s no’ a problem ye black-eyed rascal. And have ye seen yourself then?” Callum leapt out of range of her flailing arm and made his escape with Shelagh in pursuit.
Electra chortled at their antics, feeling a welcome relief from the tension of the last few hours. She remained on the ground as William thanked the workers for their help and sent them back to their beds. He then returned and flopped down next to her.
“They seem so happy together,” she said watching Callum and Shelagh walk into the night, arm in arm. “What brought them to New South Wales?”
“It’s a long story. I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to tell it.” Her look of disappointment must have changed his mind. He wriggled into a more comfortable position. “Perhaps a shortened version then.”
She nodded, knowing he was as tired as she.
“Our Callum was the laird of one of the MacDonald clans; a loved and respected laird by all accounts.” William lay back with his hands under his head. “But life was hard for them all. Famine had ravaged the country for some time, and they were beleaguered by constant clan skirmishes as well as keeping the English at bay. Just as he thought things could not get worse, they lost their ten-year-old son to the yellow fever.” Electra covered her mouth in shock. “Callum said Shelagh was inconsolable and their surroundings were a constant reminder of the boy.”
“Oh, William. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of losing a child. What did they do?”
“Callum tried many distractions, but knew he was losing her to her grief, so he made his brother clan chief and bought passage to Australia. He thought he could give her a new start and, if everything worked out here, he would send money back to his family in Scotland. We met a week after he arrived and I knew immediately I wanted him working with me. His leadership and farming skills have been invaluable. He’s a good man, one of the best. I’m lucky to have him.”